Chapter 1252
Chapter 1252:
“…father. In a way, I’m your elder. There’s no need for you to resort to things like this. Do you understand p>
Michelle turned her head, shrugged indifferently, and shot back, “You’re only five or six years older than me. I truly like you. I want to see you every day p>
“And what about your friendship with Annabel p>
The smile on Michelle’s face vanished at once, replaced by obvious displeasure. “How can you bring up Annabel now? When it comes to her, I’m nothing but jealous. From the moment I laid eyes on you, envy has been eating me alive p>
Rupert pressed his lips into a hard line and studied Michelle with a baffled look. He hadn’t expected her to react like this.
At the same time, Annabel received a frantic call from Finley. “Miss, we still haven’t found Mr. Benton. Something’s wrong p>
By then, Annabel had forced herself to calm down. She had asked Anthony to track Michelle’s exact location. Her next step was clear: gather Finley and the bodyguards. If Rupert really had fallen into Michelle’s hands, they would have a better chance with more people.
She couldn’t let Michelle become another Heather.
“Rupert should be in Wellden. I’ll send you the exact location. Get there immediately with your team p>
“Understood p>
Michelle waited, counting down to daybreak, when the private jet would take her and Rupert back to France. Once they were gone, she believed it would be nearly impossible for Annabel to find them.
The two bodyguards stayed alert, keeping Rupert under tight watch. Rupert sat in silence, refusing to answer Michelle’s attempts to speak to him.
Thirty minutes later, fatigue began to show. The bodyguards’ eyelids drooped, and they couldn’t stop their yawns. Rupert noticed, sensing the drug’s effects fading from his system. He lifted his head and let out a faint, humorless chuckle.
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“There’s no need to be so devoted,” he said quietly. “I’m tied up. I can’t run. If you’re this tired, why not take a nap p>
“Not a chance! If we do, you’ll escape,” one of the bodyguards snapped, struggling to keep his eyes open but clinging stubbornly to his duty.
Rupert inwardly scoffed at their blind loyalty.
His hand shifted subtly, seeking the rough edge of a nearby sharp corner, his fingers brushing against it.
An idea sparked in Rupert’s mind.
With painstaking caution, he worked the rope at his wrists against a rough, jagged edge nearby, keeping the movement small and easy to miss. He repeated the motion—back and forth, again and again—until the fibers began to give.
A faint tearing sound rose in the silence. The two bodyguards glanced over at him. When they saw no obvious attempt to run, their vigilance eased, and they started to slacken, ready to steal a brief rest.
Rupert stayed still, listening, feeling, waiting—until the rope finally snapped.
His eyes narrowed. Now.
He freed his hands in one swift motion. The bodyguards jerked upright, but Rupert moved faster. In a flash, he struck decisively, dropping them before they could react. Michelle was in another room with the remaining guards. There was no time to waste.